


You Don't Mess With That

by whitesail



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Minor Voilence, Out of Character, black hat is a badass, black hat is a rescuer...in some sense, black hat just can't tell affection and uncomfortableness apart, flug is a captive, sassy Dr. Flug, so is Demencia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-18 20:57:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20198080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitesail/pseuds/whitesail
Summary: In which an important lesson is taught:When a villain captive stares into your eyes and says really seriously, "You don't want to mess with that", the best choice is to phone your superiors right now and tell them to dump the captive as far as they can (moon recommended if available).If not successful, pack up and flee to the other side of the planet.





	You Don't Mess With That

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that  
1\. English is very much not my mother tongue, nor is Spanish;  
2\. I'm 1000% a crappy writer;  
3\. The characters are not responsible for what I made them do;  
4\. My stupidity is;  
5\. Ice-cream is a savior in hot weather (but please don't eat too much).

Black Hat is growing really, _really_ impatient.

It has been at least eight hours since his stupid-useless-dumbass-squad last reported to him. The flicking light on the screen indicating the location of his aircraft stays stubbornly where it has been for _eight hours_.

Well, either the tracker is broken, or it isn't moving anywhere.

He refuses to consider the possibility that they might be trying to escape (the mission this time is indeed quite far from his mansion), because they are not _that_ stupid. They are, of course, silly, slow, noisy, troublesome and weak, being the worst subordinates in every possible way, but they are also undoubtedly loyal. The crazy man-eating lizard. The coward good-for-nothing nerd scientist. Even the disgustingly soft transgenic bear.

All three of them.

No matter how far they go, they will come back here. To him. The very beginning of their chains. The very end of their destiny.

They are lights that stray. He is the Black Hole that pulls them in.

He won't hesitate to call them his property.

Black Hat's thin string of patience is just about to snap when the flicking red light tings into green, which, luckily for those three bugs, means the aircraft is out of standby mode and is now manned.

Slowly, Black Hat smiles an iconic Black Hat smile, all sharp teeth and promised cruelty.

●

So, a vicious Black Hat™ smile is what Demencia stumbles upon when she staggers toward the big screen.

Normally, she is supposed to throw herself onto the screen like 5.0.5 does an ice-cream, bombarding her hero with love letters and songs. Normally, she should be stretching and laughing, boasting and joking, wiping their enemy's warm blood off her face and mocking Flug's shitty plan. Normally, she shouldn't feel an unfamiliar sense of panic and guilt. Normally, she shouldn't taste her own blood. Normally, she is not even the one that should be talking with Black Hat right now.

Normally, she is supposed to have a certain Dr. Flug by her side.

"_Finally_, you useless bugs. What took you SO long?" Her boss is almost purring, voice slick with melting anger. The screen begins to flash and buzz dangerously.

_Oh God._ Demencia catches the tip of her tongue between sharp teeth, half expecting that slight pain is able to dilute the disorientating blankness of her mind. Demencia is not good at this. She really isn't.

Black Hat suddenly narrows his eyes. "What happened?" he demands. "Why are you so badly hurt? Where is 5.0.5? "

Demencia bites hard on her tongue this time, losing every trace of straightforwardness and confidence she's ever had. She is stooping a little, curling down into herself, half in pain and half in fear/guilt/shame/anxiety. She starts to seriously consider if she can hide underground and shuts everything out.

She almost sees the gears turning in Black Hat's head:

_If the undying 5.0.5 doesn't manage to make it back..._

"-where is Flug?"

The question is more like a whisper. Demencia would have missed it if she hadn't been paying attention. Black Hat's tone is low, voice deep, filled with something very dark. The aircraft's lights are flashing and dimming, as if a storm is about to strike.

"Ah, that's a good question, My Love." says Demencia. Sweat mixed with blood slips in a weird light red color down the side of her face and painted a trail down her neck. "Actually, a little problem here...Well...They have Flug."

●

Flug starts and wakes up to a brightly lit interrogation room, sitting in a chair. His neck is sore. His shoulders are stiff. His head hurts like it has been cracked open by a iron hammer - well, that might actually be the case.

When he tries to lift his hand and helps to ease the pain a little, he is stopped by a cuff keeping his wrists on the table, which, naturally, is fixed to the floor. After several futile attempts, he gets nothing but aching wrists and he gives up altogether with a frustrated sigh. Anyway, he is lucky that they allow him to keep the paper bag on.

"Savages." he murmured.

He closes his eyes for a few seconds, and the daze fades away. He pictures the room in his mind. There is definitely at least one camera, most likely hanging in the corner behind him. He faces a mirror. Must be one-way glass. No interrogator yet. Since he isn't in a dark wet cell (or better, soundly dead), he is positive that these people have several nice questions for him.

Now the problem is who these people are.

He has a few good guesses. A dissatisfied villain customer. Some government agency that pokes its nose somewhere it should not. A hero organization, most likely.

Well, whoever they are, they are not anywhere near gentle when handling a captive.

"Savages! " Flug says again, louder this time.

The door of the room swings open in response, revealing a middle-aged man in a white shirt and neat trousers.

"I think this term applies to you better." he says, covering the distance between them.

Flug is about to retort by instinct when the familiarity of the man's voice strikes him like lightning.

"You are the one who called!"

"Ah, you _are_ clever." the man smiles. That tight smile doesn't reach his brown eyes. "Yes, I'm the one who called. Should have used some disguise though, don't you think?"

That explains a lot. That explains a _damn_ lot. Everything was wrong from the very beginning.

"So you lied about offering us a mission. It was just an excuse to get us here." Flug presses down his anger and kicks himself for falling for fake "emergency call" and some worried-sounded villain stranger. "Hate to break it to you,_ bastard_, but that's _dirty_."

The man shrugs, somehow manages to look innocent.

"Call me Brian." he says cheerfully and pulls out the chair in front of Flug, sitting down across the table. "Now, Dr. Flug," he looks at the folder he is holding and pops open his pen, "how about we have a little talk about the organization you are working for?"

Flug sighs. "Brian," he says with so much exhaustion that even surprises himself. He genuinely hopes he can rub his head, "you don't want to mess with that."

Brian stares at him, eyebrows raised, full of silent challenge.

Flug struggles to keep on - for God's sake why he has to deal with all those dumbass bullshit - "You don't understand. No matter what kind of people you guys are - government agents, or superheroes - you won't stay alive doing this."

Brian puts down his pen. "Is that a threat? Are you _threatening_ me?"

"No, it's a party invitation." Flug deadpanned.

"We've already checked you thoroughly, so don't even think about your little tricks."

"If you check carefully enough, I have a grenade in my stomach. I can throw up and blow off your head." says Flug.

Brian's eyes widen for a brief moment. "I don't think-"

The door opens. Another man wearing some kind of uniform he can't recognize walks in holding a device. He approaches Flug and turns on the thing, putting it over his belly and watching closely.

"I don't think that's necessary." Brian sighs. "He is absolutely lying."

The other man straightens and nods curtly to Brian. "It's an order." he says shortly.

Flug is still dumbfounded after the man leaves the room. These hairless circus monkeys are just _impossible_.

"So you have superiors up there." Flug wonders aloud. "Bet they are shameless bastards, too."

"You are getting your tongue chopped off." Brian hisses, seemingly frustrated with this conversation going nowhere. "Now start talking or you will never be talking again."

Flug throws up his hands, or rather, makes an effort to do so but stopped by the cuff.

"Okay, grumpy," he says slowly, "don't say I haven't warned you."

●

Black Hat looks a lot more frightening in person, especially when he emerges from a pool of shadow like the superbadass he is.

Uneasiness is eating Demencia alive. She would have let Flug get out of the mess and run, if that means she doesn't need to deal with this huge pile of... this.

The enemy had made a surprise attack. They were expecting a friendly meeting and a discussion about the "generous returns" the man on the phone promised, not a massive explosion in the first place. They had been surrounded. They had fought fiercely, but enemies kept pouring in. She was disoriented and hurt. She screamed insults at the top of her lungs. She was soaked in blood, mostly the enemy's. Then she heard Flug yelling at her.

"RUN!!" he had shouted, shooting frantically at every enemy he saw. He didn't look well. Hell, he looked awful. All blood and dust and ragged clothes. 5.0.5 was nowhere in sight.

"WE FIGHT!" she had screamed and ripped open a throat.

"NO! RUN! GO FIND _HIM! _"

_Oh._

She had understood. So she had run, even though that goes against every instinct of hers. Because, in spite of all the mocking and conflicting, she knows that Flug knows better. Sometimes you just need to trust the nerd. Just a little. Just for once.

Demencia kicks herself for getting into_ this_ situation anyway.

Black Hat seems quite pissed. He is typing quickly on the keyboard. The control room is utterly silent except for the clicking noise. The silence weighs heavily down on her head and makes it hard to breathe.

"There he is." Black Hat says. "They didn't find the tracker planted in his body then."

"They have moved him elsewhere." Demencia scowls at the screen. "It's not where we fought."

Black Hat turns to her and places a hand on her shoulder - she doesn't have time to feel surprised or giddy, because the next second she is pulled into swirling darkness.

After what might be a split second or well over a million years, her feet hit solid ground. She has a distinct feeling that she is going to throw up.

Without a word, Black Hat grabs her tightly and shoves her into the shadow where they apparently just emerged from. Darkness spreads. She feels cold.

A patrolman strolls past them, totally unaware of the pair of intruders.

Demencia wants to attack and fight and taste warm blood, but she definitely won't give up Black Hat's touch for that. Not now.

Black Hat quickly withdraws his hand as if he has heard her thought. Ignoring her disappointed look, he closes his eye.

After a while, when he reopens it, His scowl turns into a sharp smile.

Demencia sees blood-thirst and glee.

"You do what I say." Black Hat orders.

●

Flug begins to feel dizzy. Probably because of the clear liquid they pushed into his veins.

Brian is totally annoyed and frustrated. Flug has made sure he gets no useful information whatsoever.

"Why can't we kill that blue thing?" Brian asks. Apparently, the man that walked in just now informed him about 5.0.5 after stabbing Flug with a syringe.

"His name is 5.0.5 and he is a bear, not a _thing_." Flug says sleepily, a little annoyed. "He is soft. Has the biggest and warmest heart on this planet. Oh, and he can't die, by the way."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, he can't be killed, stupid. You've been holding him in a cage and poking him for _ages_ and you can't see that he is undying?"

Brian glares at him. "Everything can be killed."

"Not your stupidity."

The man clearly has had enough. He slams his hands on the table and sends the pen flying to the floor.

"You LISTEN to me, you little piece of SHIT!" he roars. "No one is coming for you, so you better TALK!"

Flug can't quite hide his pity for this poor man.

"No, you are wrong." he whispers. "Someone is coming for me. And you will regret your life choice when he arrives."

"Your mysterious boss." Brian huffs. "You think he cares about you, a receptionist? A worker?"

"Also one third of his clerks." Flug corrects.

"We are not afraid of him." growls Brian. "If he ever did half of the things you claimed he had done, we would have heard about him a long time ago."

_"What are you?"_ Flug asks,"Villain Hunters? Heroes? Circus monkeys? Have you _ever_ been to school? They taught you that whatever you don't know does not exist? I have never heard of you guys, too."

"We are an underground organization."

"Oh, of course. Please inform your boss that Line 7 has a major leaking problem that is making underground trains' windows all dirty." Flug says.

Brian hits him in the face, maybe the fifth time.

Flug spits out blood. His face is swollen and on fire.

"Any last words?" he asks calmly, staring right into Brian's eyes.

"Wha-"

Brian never finishes that sentence.

Black Hat emerges from nowhere - to be precise, from behind the guy - and grabs him by the neck.

"Any last words?" he asks, smoothly and deadly.

Before Brian can even blink, darkness roars to life and devours him in one second.

●

Black Hat watches the interrogation room on the screen, three dead bodies lying on the floor beside him. He has already disposed three to make the monitor room less crowded with dead bodies. Still, the monitor room is surprisingly under-manned by his standards.

He sees the man interrogating Flug get angry and shout at him. He can't see Flug's face, but a rough observe proves that he is also badly hurt. Not that Black Hat actually cares, it's just that the fact stings him and makes him uncomfortable. He hates feeling uncomfortable.

The room is flooded with bright light, but when the man stands up and hits Flug in the face (THAT SCUMBUG IS DEFINITELY GOING TO DIE), he creates a pool of shadow behind him. And that is more than enough.

Black Hat dives into darkness again.

He is silent and fast. The bug doesn't even get the chance to scream. Darkness encloses him like a cloak and soaks every fiber in his fragile body. It tears him apart and grinds him into small pieces of horror and pain. Black Hat has always been a master in inflicting pain and torture.

"Sir-" Flug seems choked by too many words. He is straining his wrists trying to get up.

Black Hat turns to the mirror and closes his eye briefly. He smells fear.

"Shut up, you dumbass. I need to focus." he snaps, and is satisfied when Flug becomes utterly quiet. Screams and cries of pain signify the perishment of those supervisors.

Now he can turn his full attention to Flug.

Dr. Flug is in bad shape. He has blood and dust all over his ragged experiment robe, making it more red and gray than white. Also, he is almost vibrating with nervousness and anxiety, though the emotions are significantly dulled by drugs.

"Sir," he chokes, "I'm-I'm sorry. It was my mistake. I misjudged the situation. I'm sorry!"

Black Hat keeps his face expressionless and snaps his fingers. The cuff cracks open. Flug springs to his feet but is immediately dragged down by his weak state. He has to slam his hands on the table to prevent himself from falling on the ground.

"No, no, I'm. I'm fine." he pants, holding his head with left hand.

"You are badly hurt," Black Hat says flatly, "by a group of bugs."

Flug flinches. "Uh...uh. I guess so. I'm. But I'm okay. I can handle myself."

Black Hat prepares to fire more insults at his Doctor, who is very much on the verge of tearing up. However, he is also tempted to sooth the damage caused by the enemy (and probably himself), because he is again feeling uncomfortable about insulting Flug. That is not normal.

He pushes the thoughts aside. They can be left for later consideration.

Anyway, he swallows down the "You disappointed me greatly, Dr. Flug." and instead he says, "You have made the right choice and at least did not get yourself killed. Although in a _very_ mediocre way."

Flug seems startled. Waves of surprise and gratitude roll off him and washes over Black Hat, somehow lightening his mood a little.

"Thank you, Sir! I. I mean. I won't make this mistake again. I promise." Flug is literally glowing with happiness.

"A second time and you'll be dead." Black Hat states.

"Of course!" the human quickly responses, trying yet again to straighten and walk.

Black Hat sighs internally and lifts his gloved hand. With another snap of his fingers, black tendrils soar up into the air and wrap around Dr. Flug until only his head is visible. Flug hisses in pain.

_Fragile Humans._ Black Hat sighs silently - he has lost count how many times that is - and slightly lightens the tendrils' pressure.

Flug breathes out in relief and makes a startled little sound when the tendrils lift him up.

"Now," Black Hat says, making a gesture for the Flug-wrapping-tendrils to follow, trying a bit too hard to not find that little squeaky sound cute, "we march to where 5.0.5 is held and meet with Demencia."

He is pretty sure Flug let out a literal sob.


End file.
